


Steady as We Go

by jemssims (morsly)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Little bit of smut, Maybe - Freeform, Mostly Fluff, Tumblr Social Media AU, basically all your cheesy domestic fitzsimmons dreams with instagram posts to go with them, domestic fitzsimmons, domestic fitzsimmons af, fitzsimmons engaged!, fitzsimmons married!, fitzsimmons pregant!, fitzsimmons with kids!, happy fitzsimmons, just a tad, kind of, let's pretend nothing bad ever happens fitzsimmons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-19 12:04:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4745657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morsly/pseuds/jemssims
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>You brought out the best in me,</i>
  <br/>
  <i>a part of me I've never seen.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>You took my soul and wiped it clean.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Our love was made for movie screens.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>A series of happy and domestic one-shots based on the social media edits that can be found <a href="http://jemssims.tumblr.com/tagged/domestic-fitzsimmons-af">here</a><br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. All That I Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _So small a turning  
>  The world grows older every day  
> An ache, a yearning  
> Soften when I hear you say_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the first chapter in what could be a really really huge fic. So far I have 24 edits (in 4 posts) on Tumblr, but I am definitely making more. This is definitely a shorter chapter out of all I will write for this, and I hope you stick with it. Anyways, I'm really excited for this because I think it has the potential to be pretty decent. Please let me know if it's not. Also let me know if it is. Okay, read away :)

_This chapter is based on:_

The first time it happened they were cuddling in bed.  Jemma had already poured her coffee, and she came back into their bedroom to pick out an outfit and turn on the shower.  Fitz didn’t let let her get halfway to the closet before pulling her back into bed with a satisfied hum.  Despite wanting to adhere to her strict morning schedule, she couldn’t help but let him wrap his limbs around her, burying his face in her hair.  The November chill outside had crept into their poorly insulated (although very aesthetically pleasing) apartment.  The brick fireplace was for show only.  “Fitz, I’m going to be late,” she spoke into his chest.  His arms just held her tighter.

“Sh, just a few more minutes.”

Jemma smiled, thinking of how he looked waking up in the morning.  When she had gotten up, his arm instinctively reached over to her side of the bed, gripping at the sheets, trying to find her.  His hair was sticking up and he had red marks on his cheek from the pillow.  It was incredibly charming and made her think of things she was trying not to.  She snuggled into him, avoiding the mental topic that had been bugging her for the past month.  The topic that went off like fireworks whenever she saw his face or heard his voice or felt him breathe against her.  One particular sentence that made her chest warm and her palms sweat.

I want to marry you.

She had come close to saying it  a few times before.  The first was when his head was between her legs a few weeks ago.  The second was when she walked into their living room to see a book in his lap.  His brow was knit together, and he was biting his lip.  Most recently, it was when they were eating dinner only a few nights ago.  Fitz had taken a bite of spaghetti, and a bit of sauce had marked the corner of his mouth.  The mother in Jemma licked her thumb and smudged the sauce away, but the look that he gave her afterward made her insides explode.  He was saying ‘I am so in love with you’ with his eyes.  And she wanted to reply with ‘I want to marry you so badly.’  But she didn’t, choosing instead to ruin the moment by bringing up how Bobbi would only have to see her physical therapist once a month now.  Not exactly the best way to propose to someone.

So, wrapped up against him in the early hours of the morning, the urge was just as strong, if not more, than any other time she’d been around him.  She could feel his heart beating, and his fingers were drawing small circles on her shoulder.  It was hypnotizing.  Maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t taken but a couple of sips of coffee yet.  Or that Fitz was probably half asleep.  Or that she just wanted it really badly right that second, but she said it.

“I want to get married.”  Her words slurred together.

“Hm?”  He definitely sounded half asleep.

She pulled away from him.  “Do you want to get married?”  She spoke slowly this time.

“Yes.”  He sat up quickly, untangling himself from her.  “Yes, I want to get married.  Are you serious?”

She smiled up at him, pulling herself up.  “Yes.”

He grabbed her hands and tilted his forehead against his.  “You want to marry me?”

Her smile couldn’t get any bigger.  “Yes, of course!”  She leaned in and felt his smile against her lips.  They were getting married.

\--

The second time it happened was actually that same day.  While Jemma was in the shower, Fitz made reservations at their favorite Thai place.  After that, he was a nervous wreck.  He buttoned his shirt wrong, spilled coffee on updated quinjet blueprints, and generally had an unproductive day.  He couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that Jemma wanted to marry him.  Every day that he woke up next to her, a healthy and whole and amazing her, felt too good to be true.  And she wanted it to be like that all the time.  Every day with Jemma.  So, he was a nervous wreck.  In his mind, he still had to propose to her, after all.

Jemma, on the other hand, thought that all the proposing was finished.  She had taken care of that herself, thank you very much.  So when Fitz told her they were going out for Thai, she understood it to be a celebration of sorts.  After all, she deserved some nice wine and coconut curry for biting the bullet and popping the question.  Her day, while more productive than Fitz’s, was still not up to her usual production.  She kept picturing sliding a ring onto his finger and having a first dance.  She couldn’t believe that after all they’d been through, they were getting married.  That she got to spend the rest of her life with her best friend in the world.

Fitz had to put in a couple hours overtime in the lab, so he told texted Jemma to just meet him at the restaurant.  She had enough time to change into something a little bit more celebration-worthy and walk the couple blocks to get there her normal 5 minutes before he did.  He approached the table with a loosened tie and one side of his hair sticking out a little more than the other.  Jemma couldn’t control the massive grin on her face.  He leaned down to give her a quick peck before sliding into his seat with a content sigh.  “I honestly didn’t think I was going to make it.”  Fitz picked up his menu.

“I actually already ordered.”  She gave him a sheepish smile.  “Massaman chicken and pad kee mao with a bottle of red.”

He put the menu down.  “Perfect.  So, how was your day?”

His nerves caused him to keep most of the conversation light.  They talked about the projects they were working on together and the fact that Hunter had decided to grow a beard.  While Fitz was too nervous to talk about the proposal, his avoidance of it was making Jemma very nervous herself.  Had he decided he didn’t want to marry her?  Did he just want to forget this entire morning ever happened?  Did this morning even happen?

By the time they paid the check, she was just as nervous as he was.  He grabbed her hand on the way out of the restaurant, and they spent the first five minutes of their walk in silence.

“Fitz?”  She tried not to let her worriedness show in her voice.

“Hm?”  He was clearly distracted.

“Um, okay, why haven’t you mentioned what happened this morning?”

“What?”

“When I proposed to you?”

“You proposed to me?”

“Yes!”

“I thought that was just us talking about getting engaged.”  His voice was definitely worried.

“No, that was supposed to be us getting engaged!”  Her voice rose with every word.

“That wasn’t a proposal!”

“Yes, it was!”  She let go of his hand, and they stopped walking.

“No, I-- I have something else planned.”  He stared down at his feet.

“You what?”

He looked back up at her.  “I thought that this morning we decided that we would get engaged, but that it was my responsibility to actually do the proposing.  I thought that proposing required certain things.  Certain things that you did not do this morning.  Now,” he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.  “Do you still want to get married?”

She let out a small gasp.  “Yes, of course.”  She shook her head a little bit to try and clear out the nerves and the adrenaline from confronting him.

“Good.”  He glanced at the sidewalk before kneeling down with one knee up.

“Oh, Fitz.”  She bit her lip to keep from smiling.  This was still very serious.

“Because I want to marry you too.  So, officially,” he cracked a half smile.  “Jemma Simmons, will you marry me?”

“Yes!”  She grabbed his hands and helped him to stand up, messily kissing him when he got there.  “I am so in love with you,” she spoke against his lips.  

“I love you, too.”  He grinned as they broke apart, sliding a solitaire diamond ring onto her left hand.  “It was my mum’s.”

“It’s beautiful.”  Knowing Fitz, his ‘working overtime’ was probably him getting this ring polished and resized.  “Speaking of mums, my mum and dad think we got engaged about 13 hours ago.”  

He stared down at the ring on her hand.  “You haven’t told Skye yet, though?”

“No, of course not!”

“Good, because I want to see her face.”

“It will be hilarious.”  They started walking again, keeping as little space between them as possible.  She leaned her head on his shoulder.  “Thank you for proposing too.”

“Well, thank you for proposing  first.”

“Even if you completely missed it?”

“I did not completely miss it!  I just thought there were extra steps involved.”

“Thank you for those extra steps, then.”

“You’re welcome, future Mrs. Fitz.”

“If you think I’m taking your name, you’re bonkers.”  She was smiling despite herself.

“Hah, we’ll see.”

“Also, you forgot the two PhD’s!”

“Dr. Fitz.”

“Not a chance.”  Although, the way she felt right now, knowing she would spend the rest of her life with him, had Jemma in a position to do almost anything he wanted.

And with the new pressure of the ring on her left hand as he held it, Fitz felt exactly the same way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how was it? Please please let me know what you think. Comments make my writing better! <3


	2. Toothpaste Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _pulling shapes just for your eyes  
>  so with toothpaste kisses and lines  
> I'll be yours and you'll be  
> mine_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is like super domestic Fitzsimmons. Suuuuper. Enjoy :)

_This chapter is based on:_

\--

If you would have seen the Fitz-Simmons kitchen before, it would have been spotless.  The floors were always mopped and the counters always wiped.  Even in the first weeks after their daughter was born, there remained some sort of cleanliness even with the added clutter.  The dishes left out were clean, and fridge stayed organized.  No one worried about mold.  But on this particular afternoon, the Fitz-Simmons kitchen was barely recognizable.

“Jesus Christ.”  Fitz took a survey of the disaster around him.  There were pacifiers strewn across the counter by the sink, and a pile of dirty burp cloths on the kitchen table.  The faucet was running, and the fridge was open, an alarm beeping, telling someone to close it.  A mound of raw ground beef was sitting in a pan on the stove, which was thankfully not on.  He quickly put down the groceries he’d brought in, turned off the water, closed the fridge, and went to find his wife and child.  When he got to the stairs, he heard it.  The crying.  Screaming, actually.  His daughter had quite the pair of lungs.  When he got to ner nursery, he saw almost as much disarray as he’d seen in the kitchen.  His wife was sitting in the rocker with half her shirt off, trying to nurse their baby.  While Olivia was, in fact, screaming, his wife also had silent tears streaming down her cheeks.  “Jemma what happened?”

“Fitz,” she let out his name with a sob.  “She won’t stop crying, and she won’t eat, and I think she has an ear infection, but she won’t take any of the infant motrin, and I’ve been trying to make dinner since you left, and my right breast really hurts, and she just won’t stop screaming.”  Jemma was crying harder now, trying to both calm Olivia by rocking and shushing her in between her own hiccups and tears.

Fitz went into survival mode.  “Okay, okay, let me take her.”  He crossed over to the rocker and took Olivia out of her mother’s arms, immediately bouncing and swaying.  “You go plug in the heating pad and lie down.”  She stood up, and he cupped her cheek with his hand.  “We can do this.”

Jemma nodded, giving him a quick peck, before leaving the room.

If you would have seen the Fitz-Simmons nursery before, it would have been picture perfect.  It was gender neutrally jungle themed, of course, with the walls painted a pretty dusty green and too many monkey stuffed animals and framed prints for anyone’s own good.  The drawers were stuffed to the brim with cute over-priced baby clothes and a diaper supply they thought would last forever.  On this afternoon, the Fitz-Simmons nursery was anything but picture perfect.

Stuff was everywhere, and yet none of it seemed useful in calming a very upset baby.  Fitz checked her diaper, but it was clean and dry.  She did seem to be pulling on her ear, and she felt a little warm, so he attempted to try again with the motrin.  She was too hysterical, and most of it ended up on her onesie and his shirt.  “How am I supposed to know what to do for you?!  You won’t even help yourself!”  She just started crying harder.  “Okay, okay, ear infection, and um fluid buildup, and, maybe, steam?”  Thank goodness he was married to a biochemist who dabbled in medicine.  With Olivia in one arm, he grabbed the infant tub and the monkey towel hanging on the door.  “Shh,” he soothed.  “We’ve got this.”

In the bathroom, he filled the little tub with as warm water as his daughter’s sensitive baby skin could take, undressed her from her soiled onesie, and eased her into the water as gently as possible.  The screaming stopped almost immediately.  “Oh, thank God.”  Fitz grabbed a washcloth and started bringing the warm water up near her neck and cheeks.  “Liking baths must run in the family.”  He observed the violent red of her cheeks going down significantly.  “I’ve always liked baths.”  She stared up at him with the barely there focus of someone so new.  “Your mum really likes baths.  Especially with me.”  He smiled as she grabbed his pinky with her tiny fist.  “Hmm, it’s good you don’t really understand anything yet.”

He finished her bath slowly, making sure she took the motrin then, before drying her off, and dressing her in the cutest pajamas with pink monkeys.  He was about to sit down with her in the rocker when she started rooting.  Images of the state of their kitchen and his crying wife flashed in his mind.  Fitz decided a bottle of pumped milk would have to do instead of disturbing her.  Olivia was starting to get fussy again, so he rocked and swayed as he made his way downstairs into the kitchen.

 

The Fitz-Simmons kitchen was no longer a domestic disaster.  The burp cloth pile had disappeared, and the table was set for two.  The sink was empty, the counters were wiped, and Jemma was standing at the stovetop, browning beef.  “I thought I told you to go lie down!”

She turned and gave him a gentle condescending look.  “I did, but then I remembered that I left raw meat out in the kitchen, and then I saw the dishes in the sink and all that dirty laundry, so I had to do something about it.”

“You started the dishwasher, a load of laundry, and dinner?”  He walked to the freezer and pulled out a bag of Olivia’s dinner.  “You were melting down half an hour ago!”  He turned on the faucet to warm water to defrost the milk.

“I know.”  She leaned over the space between the stove and the sink to kiss his cheek.  “Thank you for saving me.  She stopped screaming, I see.”

“I gave her a bath and practically force fed her the motrin.  Now she’s hungry.”  He one-handedly put the bag into a bottle, and the bottle into the warmer sitting on the counter.  

“Ah, well I made an appointment with the pediatrician for tomorrow morning.”

“Good.”  He leaned against the counter, continuing his rocking and swaying.  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

She unscrewed the top off a jar of marinara sauce and dumped it into the pan. Fitz saw the side of her neck go a little red and splotchy.  “A lot of this just doesn’t really come easily to me, and I’m disappointing.”

“Are you kidding?  You’re a domestic goddess.  The kitchen was a disaster 30 minutes ago!”

“Right, and I made it a disaster.”  She put a lid over the pan and changed the heat to simmer, turning to look at him.  “I don’t even mean the cooking or cleaning.  We cooked and cleaned before she was born.  I mean the mothering part.”  She crossed her arms in front of her, and he saw tears return to her eyes.  “She was upset for hours, and I knew what was wrong, and I didn’t even think of a bath!  And I’m a doctor!”

“You’re not a medical doctor--”

“You know what I mean.  I’m not good at breastfeeding or getting her to go to sleep.  Every time she gets upset, I get upset.  I’m just really worried.”

“That you’re not a good mother?  That’s crazy.  That’s actually crazy.  You’re an amazing mother.”

“Hah, and we know this from my month of experience?”

“We do.”  He took a step towards her and held out their daughter.  “Take her.”  Jemma rolled her eyes and obeyed, settling Olivia in her arms.  “You’re an amazing mother already.  Trust me.  You’re loyal to a fault.  You anticipate people’s needs before they do.  How many moms would have known to get the motrin?  Not many.  You make me a better person and you’ll do the same for our daughter.”  He took another step towards her and put his hands on her shoulder.  “Jemma, you love unconditionally.  I can’t think of anything better for her than that.”  He rubbed her arms.  “You’re an amazing mother.”

She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder, allowing him to wrap his arms gently around her with their baby between them.  “Thank you.”  She looked up at him.  “I think her bottle’s ready now, though.”

He smiled.  “See?  Motherly instincts.  You feed her, and I’ll boil the pasta.  Okay?”

“Okay.”  She moved around him to grab the bottle.  “I love you, Fitz.”

“I love you too.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you enjoy the domestic madness? Tell me all about it below, if you don't mind :)


	3. I'll Fly Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Just a few more weary days and then,_   
>  _I'll fly away._   
>  _To that land where joy will never end,_   
>  _I'll fly away._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some pre-marriage Fitzsimmons fluff for ya. I can't believe I updated this quickly, but I was inspired. If you want a feel for this chapter before, after, or while you read, go listen to Alison Krauss's I'll Fly Away. I hope this one-shot is sunny, breezy, a little banjo-y, and maybe even just a tiny bit smutty. Just a bit. Enjoy :)

_This chapter is based on:_

\--

Soft Appalachian folk music came through the radio as Fitz slept in the passenger seat with his head resting against the window.  The sunrise was making his hair almost golden, and the shadows gave his features a softer appearance. He looked like an angel.  An old-t shirt-wearing, stubbly, pretty damn sexy angel.  Jemma was having a hard time focusing on the road.  Not to mention that they’d been traveling for a better part of the night.  Every time she glanced at him, she couldn’t look away, and every time she stared at the road, she felt her eyes start to drift closed.  Thank goodness they were almost there.  Traveling really was tiring.  They boarded a plane to Charlotte, NC at midnight, and when they landed, they picked up their rental car to drive the next 4 hours to their destination.  Coulson had given them access to a SHIELD safe house/his “personal” cabin in western North Carolina as a sort of pre-wedding present.  A chance for them to relax and be together before Skye took over to make their wedding week the “best ever” aka the most ridiculous and crazy ever.

Jemma turned onto a gravel road, driving extra carefully to avoid waking Fitz, even though they were about to arrive.  She pulled into the driveway facing the side of an enormous log cabin, and turned to her finace.  She ran her hand up and down his forearm.  “Fitz, we’re here.”

He took a quick breath in and opened his eyes.  “Wood!”

She smiled, unbuckling herself.  “Yes, the cabin is made of wood.”

He sat up, rubbing a hand over his face.  “Really bad architectural choice, actually.  Did I sleep the whole way?  We were supposed to switch out two hours in.”

“You looked too peaceful to be woken,” she shrugged.  “Besides, we have plenty of time to sleep before our tubing reservation at three.”

He unbuckled.  “Good, let’s go do that, then.”

While Fitz got their bags out of the trunk, Jemma walked up to the porch equipped with rocking chairs and a swinging bench.  She opened the front door to a lot more wood.  The walls were made of it inside too, not to mention every stick of furniture.  It was charming though, if you only had to live with it temporarily and didn’t make a habit of starting kitchen fires.  Jemma peeked around the downstairs (nothing interesting, mostly kitsch-y needlepoint pillows and a locker of SHIELD-grade weapons) before going to the kitchen sink to rinse out her travel coffee mug.  She had just turned on the water when she got distracted.  The view.  The sun was just barely rising over time-weathered mountains covered in green, a sky of early morning pink behind them.  She put her mug in the sink and just stared.  “Beautiful, isn’t it?”  She felt Fitz’s arms come around her waist, and he rested his chin on her shoulder.

She put her hands over his.  “It really is.”  They stood like that for a few moments until Jemma felt her lids getting heavy.  “Bed?”

“Bed,” Fitz agreed.  He squeezed her before unwrapping her arms, grabbing her hand to lead her upstairs to the master bedroom.  It was also huge and mostly wood, but they bed was soft and the sheets cool.  They both brushed their teeth, erasing the taste of airport coffee and airplane pretzels before getting into bed.  They fell asleep almost immediately, Jemma’s back pressed up against Fitz’s front, his arm around her waist, hand holding hers.

\--

Jemma woke up at about eleven, her cheek resting on Fitz’s chest.  She turned away from him, stretching out of her sleep.  When she turned back, she was struck by how Fitz looked sleeping in the full golden light of the day.  She surmised that he just looked like a sexy angel whenever and wherever he was sleeping.  It probably wasn’t very Christian of her to call someone resembling an angel sexy.  Good thing she wasn’t religious.  She curled back into him, stroking a hand on his chest and planting soft kisses to the edge of his jaw.  He stirred, wrapping an arm around her.  “Now that’s a lovely way to be woken up in the morning.”  His sleepy voice had a thicker brogue than it normally did.  It was very hot.  

“I’m glad you think so.”  She propped herself up on her elbow and leaned down to kiss him properly.  His hand went into her hair deepening the kiss.  His other helped to pull her on top of him, her legs straddling his hips.  She moved her mouth to kiss down his neck, and his hands went under her shirt, cool fingers on the heat of her back.  He helped her to lift the shirt over her head, and put an arm under her waist to flip them around, so he could be on top of her, giving her breasts the attention they deserved.  She bit her lip as he nipped and kissed her sensitive skin.  “ _Good morning_.”  She whimpered softly when his mouth left her chest to travel down her stomach, stopping at her waistband as he pulled down her panties in a way that made her ache for him.  He left a small love mark on the inside of her thigh before giving her what she wanted.  She gasped and felt herself sinking into the bed, letting herself sink into him as well.  Their morning was full of soft sex.  The kind where you don’t even have to try to finish together.  The kind that is so gentle and tender that is makes your knees wobble anyways.  

Afterwards, Fitz made tea in his boxers, and Jemma made eggs and toast in his t shirt.  Coulson had someone stock the fridge and pantry before they got there, and everything was organic and delicious.  They ate breakfast on the porch, reveling in the privacy of the cabin and the summer mountain air.  They spent another hour or so there, curled up on the swinging bench with books until Jemma got up and announced that she was going to get ready for tubing.  She gave Fitz a quick kiss before walking across the porch to the door.

“Jemma?”  He looked up from his book as she walked inside.

“Hm?”  She stuck her head out of the door.

“This time next week, we’re getting married,” he smiled at her.

She giggled and leaned her head against the frame.  “I can’t wait.”

\--

After a sunny afternoon on the river where Fitz kept making fun of her bandana (to which she replied that they were in Appalachia, she might as well look the part), Jemma decided to take a bath while he fired up the girl.  She needed to be distracted from his cooking.  He had a hard time even boiling pasta, and she had a hard time not micromanaging, so if it ended up being a disaster, she wouldn’t be witness or feel responsible.  He told her that a charcoal grill is just physics and all a matter of getting the coals to light.  She responded that that was fine, just don’t burn the house down and let her bathe in peace.  Sure enough, when she emerged from the master in a sundress with wet hair, Fitz was in the driveway, turning BBQ chicken breasts on the grill.  “Fitz!  I’m so impressed!”  She leaned over the railing on the porch and smiled down at him.

“Yes, I know, I’m a grill master.  Could you please get me a beer?  And a plate for the chicken, if you don’t mind  It’s almost done.”

“Sure thing, grill master.”  She went inside to get him what he needed.  After she brought it down, she set the table and got out pre-made potato salad and the most beautiful strawberries she’d ever seen.  He came in shortly after with the chicken and an empty bottle, setting the plate on the table and washing his hands.  Jemma got two more beers from the fridge and sat down.  She was scooping potato salad onto her plate when he joined her.  She forked a chicken breast.  “This looks amazing.  Now that I know you can grill, I’ll never need Thai food ever again.”

He started serving himself.  “You couldn’t go two weeks without Little Bangkok.”  He smiled at her.

“You’re probably right.  Let’s not test it.”  She took a sip of beer before digging in.  While it couldn’t permanently replace Thai food, she could maybe skip the takeout every once in awhile if Fitz grilled like this.  They ate their dinner in the silence that signifies a good meal and a full day.  Afterwards, they tag teamed the dishes, and Jemma opened a bottle of red while Fitz perused the cabin’s DVD collection.  There were a lot of war dramas and spy films.  The collection obviously belonged to Coulson.  They settled on something light and happy, and ended up not watching much of it at all.  They were too distracted by each other’s hands, at first, and then by making out like teenagers in a movie theatre.  They took it into the bedroom, figuring Coulson wouldn’t be too happy to know that his almost-kids fornicated on his very nice couch.

The last thing Jemma remembered before falling asleep was Fitz’s kiss on the top of her head after he whispered “A week from now, we’ll be married.”  She snuggled into him, smiling against his chest, and falling asleep happy.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you live in the states, I highly recommend visiting Western NC. It's one of my favorite places, and for all that sucks about Southern culture, a day spent below the Mason Dixon in the summer is a beautiful day, indeed. Tell me what you think below :)


End file.
